THE NE.W YORKER ,vith a good bóok on technological un- employment. . I t is a pleasure to note this growing movemen t toward cheaper play tickets. \Ve always say there is enough over- charging in real life without going to the theatre fOf it. . F rom present indications, the White House doorstep is going to be pretty crowded with European debt babies- just babies. . If Carter Glass becon1es Secretary of the Treasury, he will find that things have not changed much around the old place. Practically all the money he borrowed during the war is still bor- rowed. . Secretary Stimson asks Peru and Colombia to settle their differences by peaceful means. Brazil has offered to take care of Little Leticia until the case is settled. . Since Howard Scott was dropped by the Columbia technocrats, he has to find some way to finance his energy survey. If the worst comes to the worst, he can pawn his joules. . The share - the - work movement seems to be getting along well. vVe understand that the management is in negotiation with Rudy Vallee for the loan of his song, "My Time is Your Time." -HOWARD BRUBAKER 17 LUNCH WITH A R.IP 5 A \V ABOUT once every six months, .r-l.. U nde Adam asks me to lunch. I have always found these in- vitations a little bewildering, because it has always been only too clear that he regards me with a mixture of disap- proval and alarm. Uncle Adam has never bothered to conceal his opinion of me; indeed, from things he has said to other members of the family, I imagine that the thought of Ine is a small but persistent irritation, lurking at the back of his head. The other night, accord- ing to my sister, \vho was dining with him and my aunt, he broke abruptly and gloomily into some talk about the depression. "He keeps a cat," said Uncle Adam. "Who?" asked my sister, a little startled. " 01 0 f ". d U 1 1 ver, 0 course, sal nc e d " D ' 0 b o " A ' am. oesn t surprIse me a It. I have never owned any sort of animal in my life, loathing them. The truth, I suppose, was that Uncle Adam had actually heard of a man who kept a cat, and somehow it seemed perfect- ly in keeping with his conception of my character. This is very true of most of Uncle Adam's ideas. He be- lieves exactly what he wants to, about everything. O UR lunch began after a fash- ion that has almost come to be a ritual with us. " y ' k o h " O d ou re smo Ing too mue, sal Uncle Adam. "Probably drinking a 1 " at, too. There followed the usual autobiog- aT hat rn/artyred look won't get YOl-l anywhere v.)ith me!" . raphy of Uncle Adam, who by neither smoking nor drinking had managed to make two and a hal f million dollars selling lumber. At my age, he had been supporting four people (in con- tradistinction, I suppose, to one cat), and getting up at fi ve o'clock in the morning to cut down trees. "Think of that!" said Uncle Adam. " I ' I 1 0 k 0 ( 1 e to see 'J'OU gettIng up at fi ve o'clock in the morning," he add- ed with satisfaction. "Probably kill " you. It being beyond debate that getting up at five o'clock in the morning to cut down trees would finish me off in a week, we went on to the m nu. Uncle Adam ordered a bowl of graham crackers and milk, which he would presently reduce to a soggy mash, a lit- tle dismaying esthetically but easily the nutritive equivalent of a full-course dinner. I asked for a tomato-juice cocktail, eggs Benedict, and coffee. "Débutante lunch," said Uncle Adam. "No wonder you're thin. What you need is roast beef and milk and plenty of greens." " I ' 0 11 h " I O d m not espeCIa y , ungry, sal apologetically. "Cigarettes," said Uncle Adam, and passed on to what might conceivably be regarded as a subject of common in- terest. My aunt was well, although she felt the cold. It didn't surprise Uncle Adam that people felt the cold, living i.n steamheated apartments. My apartment was probably kept at ninety degrees Fahrenheit. What use, by the \-vay, did a bachelor have for an apart- ment? Why didn't I try the Allerton or one of those places? They were quite cheap, he understood, and there was plenty of companionship. "1 guess that's the trouble," I said. "What? " "I mean they've always seemed a little institutional to me." "Mean they won't stand any non- sense," said Uncle Adam, implying in the word everything from modern painting to delirium tremens. "I guess h ' 0 h ?" t at SIt, e 0 At a point I always collapse in the face of this sanctimonious browbeat- o Ing. "Well," I said weakly, "they have d o 0 " a ra 10 In every room, too. "What's the matter with the radio?" said Uncle Adam. "I have one." God knows he has. It is conceal- ed inside a grandfather's clock, and guests wander uneasily around his liv-